Alive
by NightshadeBlossom
Summary: Alive is a story about Amélie Lacroix(Also know as Widowmaker), before she became the known assassin she is now. Walking the readers through the tragic, and unknown story she has. She will be pulled through horror, hurt, loss, and more. Leading to the act that kills Widowmaker's first subject. Amélie Lacroix.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Alive**

 _Chapter 1_

 _It was sickening how people would use innocents as tools. Bend them. Break them. For their amusement, for their hand, and for their plans._

It had taken Talon longer than admired to kill Gérard Lacroix. Trying again and again until their patience wore thin.

When the line was drawn, Talon decided to break someone. Someone who lived a complicated life, but a life that was woven into the illusion of a normal life.

" _Mari?_ You are leaving again?"

A concerned Amélie Lacroix was greeted with dead silence as her husband shuffled through his bags, and put his phone down.

"Gérard…"

The man she loved ignored her, deep in thought. Mrs. Lacroix stood, looking at him and holding back her tongue. She was getting tired of this game of hide and seek. He left, said it was needed, and came back with little-to-no explanation.

"Gérard!"

"Yes, Amélie?" He muttered lowly as an answer. Trying to keep the worry out of his voice as he stared at his bags.

"You keep leaving… This has gone on long enough, Gérard. What is going on?" Amélie's voice was harsh, but had an audible tone of worry among it.

"You should not worry-"

" _Passer sur le corps!"_ She snapped. "I worry everyday! Please Gérard.. Please."

Her pleads were reacted with a sigh, and a saddened frown. The man grabbed his bags and forced a smile. Leaning to Amélie and giving her a peck on the lips.

In Gérard's mind, he was to distance himself from his _femme_ when there was any proof of a nearing attack. A possible attempt to murder him, loomed and planned by the very own Talon.

Gérard Lacroix stepped away from the frowning Amélie, grabbing her hand and giving a saddened smile. He slowly let the hand go, and stepped from the door, much to Amélie's lament.

Amélie merely watched in silence as her love slipped from her grasp once again. She doubted she would get any answer at this point.

Lacroix's heart pounded and she stepped forward, locking the door and looking out the window.

Gérard had already gone.

To Amélie's confusion, he was gone in such a short amount of time. She looked around, and when she spotted a man who wore what seemed to be police gear, she skipped a heartbeat.

'Why would such a heavily armored person be… here? _Bizarre_ …' She thought to herself before shutting the blinds. As she shut them, her eyes caught with the man's, and Amélie felt shivers crawl down her spine.

With each pump of blood through her heart, Amélie was dared to think of possible scenarios. Fear was the idea, and perpetual. Amélie was suddenly under the idea that her life was in **danger** , and it put her on high alert.

Treading to the bathroom, Amélie looked into the mirror. Planning to go about her day like she normally would after she took a shower. It was bright outside, and Amélie didn't plan to hide in her shell of a house all day.

She flung the curtains from the shower opening, and leaned forward to turn the knob. Amélie felt a random wave of nervousness as she did this, and turned to the door. She quickly walked and shut it before taking off her clothes, and glanced at the door behind her.

Stepping into the contraption, she felt the warm water wash over her body, and she took in a deep breath that absorbed the hot air. Amélie kept her eyes closed as water forced her now wet hair against her shoulders, and she sighed deeply.

Amélie couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that told her someone was watching her. She bit back the urge to grab the sharpest object in the bathroom, and walk out in her house bare, threatening whoever was there. The worried woman could do nothing but fight back those idiotic urges, and tell herself that she was just being paranoid.

'You are just acting like this because Gérard has been running away from you… _Imbécile_ … He is probably cheating on you. That is the only logical reason he would be acting like this!'

Amélie scowled and ran a hand through her hair, taking a breath once more and trying to flush the ferocity down. It was a sickening thought, but Amélie was someone who knew she needed to consider what possibilities there would be. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. It was just how the world went 'round.

"Gérard is just doing his job…" Amélie soothed herself with, "You know that he is not the kind of person to betray the person he loved. He would just be straightforward, and tell you the truth."

Amélie managed to slow her heartbeat, and keep her worries down a bit. Opening her eyes to watch the water trickling down the walls. It was calming, and Amélie could not determine why such a simple thing would be such. Maybe that was it though. It was simple, and simple things made life easy.

Satisfied with the answer to her own inward question, Amélie turned the knob and listened as the water came to a stop.

Amélie hopped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel as the cold breeze hit her. Treading to the dryer and running the towel up and down her body, getting rid of the water so that it wasn't cold, and so she could get dressed.

After drying herself to amount she needed, Amélie plugged in the dryer, and let the towel fall. She flicked the switch on, and the loud noise of the dryer filled her ears as the warm air came rushing out. She suppressed a shiver, and quickly dried her hair, running a comb through it, and quickly coming to a halt.

 _Crash_.

Shards of glass hit the floor in the kitchen, and Amélie held her breath as her heart began to pound in her chest. Someone was here. She knew it! She should have just listened to herself and called the police while she had the chance. Now she stood, defenseless in the bathroom, without clothes, and without any devices she could use to contact officials.

Amélie thought she could hear the thoughts in her head out loud at this point. Her head was rushing, and emotions piled in her conscious. She quietly put on a bathrobe that Gérard got for his birthday last year, and she grabbed a pair of nail-cutting scissors.

 _Slowly, Amélie opened the door…_


	2. Chapter 2: Around The Hallway's End

**Alive**

 _Chapter 2_

 _Slowly, Amélie opened the door…_

Her heart was thumping wildly in her chest, and her hand was pale from holding the small scissors so tightly in her hand. Amélie dreaded the idea that a floorboard would creak, or she would knock something over like it was a cheap horror movie.

Amélie softly placed her foot outside the room, stepping out carefully and holding her breath in. Not daring to make even the slightest sound.

As she turned the corner, she looked down the hallway that would lead to her living room and her kitchen. Her eyes fluttered around violently, and she gulped in worry because of the heat of the situation.

The tense French took soft steps down the hallway, and she didn't dare let those scissors out of her hand. Holding them up in case she was attacked, which in her mind was possible at any given moment.

The hallway came to an abrupt end, and Amélie couldn't help but panic. What if the intruder was armed? What if she wasn't strong enough? What if it wasn't even an intruder at all, and she ended up harming an innocent?

She knew it was once again, her paranoia talking. So she took in a final breath and turned the corner. It was so stressful it gave her a headache, and she could feel her bones aching from how tense she was.

'Get in, do what you must. It is your right to defend yourself… _Oui_?'

Her eyes opened wide as she turned, a broken vase half on the counter, and half on the floor. The cabinet above it open. There… was no one there?

Amélie held the wall and let out a loud exhale. Her heart still beating like a drum as she got light headed. That was a bit much to take in, and there was nothing there the whole time? The vase must have been too close to the edge, and fallen out.

She took a step forward, and with a loud voice, Amélie yelped.

" _Fils de pute! Tu… tu…!"_

Amélie looked down at her foot, which had been cut open by a shard of glass. The wound slowly began to bleed out, and the French woman lifted her foot up with a sharp exhale.

Well, she had to clean this up first before she could clean up the vase mess. The momentum of the fake intruder had slightly worn off, but the little bit left was not any help with her torn open foot.

She walked her way back to the bathroom, and decided it would be best to get dressed after she wrapped her foot up as she opened the cabinet and grabbed peroxide and wrapping. She closed her toilet lid and sat down, lifting her foot up to see a shard of glass lodged in it.

"Way to make my day better… _Zut_ …"

Amélie reach down to the bottle of peroxide, and began to pour some onto the fresh wound. She gritted her teeth, and took in forced breathes as the liquid tore at her nerves. The woman then grabbed the shard of glass, and like ripping out a band aid, she pulled it out.

The pain was agonizing. Searing her skin like a piece of roasted meat. She bit her lip as blood crawled down her foot, and she brought a wet cloth to it. Wrapping it quickly and standing up to test her foot on the floor. It brought a hiss to her lips. She grabbed her clothes, and put them on quickly. Walking out and back to the kitchen.

Amélie eyed a pile of blood, and carefully stepped around the sharp points of glass. Grabbing a plastic bag and putting her hand in it, she grabbed the glass piece, and put them in the trash, then swept the floor in case of anything being left over.

Throwing the little scraps of glass in the trash, Amélie decided it would be best if she went outside and enjoyed the sun. She rarely had to work with Gérard's job, which of course unknown to her why he made so much, so she used her time to enjoy her days and do what she can.

Amélie grabbed a thin jacket, and her purse. Stepping outside and feeling the sun's rays lying across her skin. She decided it would be best to head into town. The little suburbs she was living in had rarely anyone, and in that case, Amélie debated if it really was a suburb at all.

Keys were fumbled for as a hand reached into a pocket. Amélie grabbed the set, and headed to her car, opening it and stepping in. Before closing the door, Amélie looked to her left, and her gut dropped as she saw a man in all black glance at her. Seemingly, he had been grinning directly at her.

Amélie suddenly felt light headed again, and she slammed her door shut and started the car. To her right another man was leaning against a nearby house, flicking a cigarette to the floor, and crossing his arms.

On habit, Amélie pushed the gear so the car would back up, and she exited the driveway. Her eyes wide, and her heart pounding. She turned, pushed the gear to it's original, and she drove out of her neighborhood.

The road seemed to be a trap to Amélie, and she was back at square one with her paranoia.

"They could easily surround me here on this _zut_ road…" Amélie muttered to herself. "Gérard has to be the reason for this. There is not ONE reason those men would be in our neighborhood…"

Amélie held the wheel nervously, but couldn't help but be mad at the thought of betrayal. In her heart, she knew Gérard would never be selfish enough to go away and leave her for blood and bones.

With that final thought, Amélie decided to stop thinking about it, and she turned the radio on. As she scrolled through the channels, one thing caught her ear and she returned her hand to the steering wheel.

" _Overwatch may have saved us in the past, but in reality, are they really the heroes?"_

Amélie sighed to herself, and listened in as the reporter stated that many people had started a rebellion against the team "Overwatch." Apparently, Overwatch was just causing more issues for humankind, and at that comment, Amélie scoffed to herself. Overwatch had sacrificed so much for them, and everyone else threw that away just like that, huh?

As another joined in on the speaking, Amélie just huffed and turned the radio off. Enough of _that._

Amélie continued on the long drive into town, and couldn't help shake the feeling of worry off. It was really getting to her at this point. Her foot stung whenever she stopped thinking about it.

It was understandable though. She was still startled by the 'vase incident', and there was _no_ reason that those men should have been in her neighborhood. _Not one reason._

Well, none that crossed her mind that is…

The trip into town was faster than Amélie expected, but with her mind being as busy as it was, it made some sense.

Of course the trip over was fine. Amélie was practically begging herself to get a grip, but her instinct knew something was off.

The car came to a stop in front of an old bakery. It brought a smile to Amélie's distraught self, and she stepped up to the door.

When she pushed the door open, a cute little bell dangled above her head.

"Welcome- Wait. Amélie! _Bonjour, ma Chérie_!"

Amélie offered the woman a worried smile before giving her a French greeting by air kissing both of her cheeks.

This woman was Camilla, and she was basically a mother to Amélie. This being said, she caught on to Amélie's stress immediately.

"What is wrong, _Amour_?"

Amélie shook her head. "Just a rough morning…" She glanced out the window, and went pale when a black can strolled by the petite shop. A silhouetted figure watching her from the inside.

Camilla grabbed Amélie by the hand, and tugged her into the kitchen quickly.

"Who was that, Amélie?" There was worry clouding her voice, and her eyes struck right at the younger French.

"No one… Honest, I don't know them."

Camilla gave a motherly glare, "That doesn't explain why they drove by, or why you are so nervous about it. I know you Amélie. Something is wrong here…"

"Camilla, I-"

"Where is Gérard?"

Amélie frowned and glanced downward towards her feet. "He… Had to go…" She stated mildly.

Camilla stood silently, deep in thought, and seemingly confused.

"Again?" She queried.

Amélie did nothing but nod, and she stepped back a bit. She had limped a tad and that caught the eye of Camilla.

"You are limping!" Camilla sighed, and once again gave Amélie a motherly glare. Like scolding a child who had ruined their new clothes. "How did you hurt it?"

"I stepped on glass…" Amélie stuttered, flushing in embarrassment, and looking through the kitchen window as an act of returning paranoia.

"It hurt, but I will live. _D'accord?"_

"I think we both need a walk." Camilla spoke as she pulled her apron off. "Will you care to join me?"

Amélie nodded as Camilla flipped the store sign to closed, and she stepped out the door. Holding it open for the older lady.

As Amélie accepted, she opened and held the door open for Camilla. Gracefully keeping the door open with her foot that was not torn open at the moment. She let her vocal chords work and asked "Where to?"

Camilla beckoned Amélie to her side as she walked out, thanking her with a " _Merci."_ then debating where they should head to.

"We could head to the _parc?"_

Amélie nodded and followed behind Camilla, treading to her side slowly and quietly. Her eyes flickered about the scenery as they walked down the sidewalk.

The nervousness Amélie had rested in her gut like a stone. It was wearing her down quite a bit.

Everyone who walked by, every car that drove past them. They all were possible hostiles. Enemies illused as innocents that could turn, and attack at any given moment. Along with this, Amélie felt desolate. Gérard had once again slipped from her fingertips like sand, and even though Camilla was at her side, she seemed distant. Amélie knew that she was worried about Gérard, and it put her in a state of confusion.

"Camilla..?"

" _Oui?"_ Camilla answered, questioning briefly.

"Do you know where Géra-" Amélie was cut short as a man intercepted the two. His black figure crossing in front of them, and slowly their short travel. He seemed stern, and Amélie held a short breath.

The stranger glared at the two, and he looked to Amélie, who was watching him wide-eyed.

"Amélie Lacroix? I have a few questions about your husband, Gérard Lacroix?" His voice was strong and gruff. Amélie felt puny in his presence and shirked downward a bit, her heart beating repeatedly.

"Gé-Gérard? What about him?" As Amélie replied with such, she felt Camilla grab her hand, and tense up. She didn't like this one bit, her body motions obviously motioning for them to get out of this situation. Soon.

The broad man took a slightly threatening step toward the two, his eyes never wavering. "Do you happen to know where he is? We need to get in contact with him, and we have not had the chance."

Amélie gulped, her hand quivering. She did not know where Gérard, but she knew this man obviously wouldn't believe her. "He had to leave this morning. I don't have the slightest clue where he is. I am sorry…" Amélie felt Camilla tug at her again. "Now, Camilla and I must be on our way…" Amélie took a step forward.

She was stopped with a hand to her shoulder. The man barely giving her a glance as he spoke. "If you do see him… I _kindly_ request you tell us. _Immediately."_

Amélie was confused as the man distanced himself and left, especially since he have her no form of contact. Amélie could do nothing but take a deep breath as he left her sight, and she continued her walk to the park…

 _Several hours later,_ Camilla gave a muffin to Amélie, hugging her a goodbye.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you, Chérie?" Camilla questioned. Worry lingering along her facade. Amélie was a bit hard-headed to say yes, so she shook her head.

"Don't be worried about me, Camil, I will be just fine. I promise.." Amélie spoke softly, hugging Camilla and stepping back. " _Merci, Camilla."_

The old woman nodded and smiled. " _J'aime tu!_ Stay safe!"

The drive back was dreadful. Dark, long, and a bit startling. Amélie wished that she allowed Camilla to come along with her, because in this empty land, Amélie had a strong fear. She was stubborn, and wouldn't bear to see Camilla so worried over nothing at all.

Amélie's eyes wavered. She was tired and today had been long. Stress piling on her shoulders like boulders. Her tense body held together by a mental thread all day. After times like that, rest was usually requested. Exhaustion raining down on Amélie's mind roughly.

The French woman pulled up to her house. Fumbling for keys in her purse and opening the car door.

Shivers crawled down her spine like spiders. Biting at the sensitive bone with their warning call. Amélie looked about, her eyes glazing over each detail and object.

'It is extremely quiet…' She thought to herself. Stepping out of the car, and quickly walking to her house. Being prepared, she easily opened the door, and closed the door behind her.

Amélie felt her breath harshen, and she stood, leaning against the door. Her eyes were wide with a strong fear. Showing that she was on the edge of things no longer being paranoid. Her heart beating quickly, and for a dread-bringing moment, she savored that heartbeat. That final heartbeat.

Her foot tread forward. Her heart rang. Her eyes narrowed. Her facade turned sorrowful, and a noise erupted.

 _Crash. Glass. All around._

To her feet, glass fell, and men barged in. Amélie screamed, but her mouth was covered with a cloth as her neck was wrapped with a strong arm. Her feet pattered against the floor viciously, and Amélie kicked. Tears piling in her eyes. She felt her heart slow, and she grew tired. So tired it was sickening.

Her hands gripped the arm violently. She felt darkness surround her. Black circles closing in on her eyes like starving vultures. She kicked. Again. Again.

 _Then, her conscious faltered, and she became a limp body in the arms of sick people._


End file.
